14. Lena
Lena
M ayor Lang asked for a week before I go public with Anton’s file. Time to handle things on his end. Somehow, that one-week delay has turned into complete radio silence between me and my fake husband.
The file detailing Anton’s long list of dirty deeds triggered something in Dominic—protective, maybe even paranoid. We had it out right after the meeting, over the tracking app he installed on my phone. He won. I didn’t delete it. Mostly because he’s right. Anton’s unpredictable.
That argument was the last actual conversation we had.
Since then, it’s been a full week of silence.
We haven’t crossed paths once. I sometimes hear him in his room when I’m heading out.
He works nights at the club and sleeps during the day.
We’re never in the apartment at the same time.
The only signs he’s still here are a few empty glasses, the occasional coffee cup, and the trace of his cologne in the air when I come home at night.
Not a single message. Just one envelope left on the table, with my spending card and a note inside: “Let me know if you need more.”
How much is ‘more,’ exactly? I checked the limit at the first ATM. One hundred thousand dollars. Holy Molly.
The money couldn’t have come at a better time.
Rise House needs to relocate, and fast. With the shelter suddenly out of options, I convinced Valerie to move everything into my grandmother’s house.
My new status as a billionaire wife convinced her to accept my offer.
So now we’re here, standing together in the biggest room, the old dance studio.
After she retired, Grandma gave ballet lessons to local kids and had this space converted into a studio, complete with mirrors and proper flooring.
“We’ll call it Grace House for Women ,” Valerie says.
She gives me a calm, confident smile, like she’s already mapped the whole thing out. “We’ll put bunk beds here for the moms with kids. And we can section off small spaces using room dividers. For now, we’ve got mattresses and chairs,” she continues.
Valerie never hesitates when it comes to helping people. She moves forward like it’s the only direction that exists.
“Well, now we’ve also got a card. Almost unlimited. For whatever you need.”
“We’ll only buy what’s absolutely necessary.”
“No, Valerie, you don’t get it. This card is for my billionaire-wife expenses. We can refurnish the whole house based on what the shelter needs.”
I step closer, more certain with every word. “We can buy new clothes for every resident, stock the fridges, fill the pantry, and take care of anything else that comes up.”
I pause, making sure she hears me. “Anything, Valerie. I mean it. These women deserve a second chance. And above all, they deserve to be treated with dignity, with compassion. That’s your strength.”
Then I offer the last part like a promise. “I’m here to back you up, with a laptop, a phone, and a card. Let’s do this.”
Valerie hugs me, and for the first time, she starts to cry. It throws me off. Valerie never cries. She’s always the one holding everything and everyone together. And now, in this half-empty room that still smells faintly of old wood and linoleum wax, she’s letting it out. For Grace. For all of it.
“I wish Grace could see this. She was so proud of you…”
If I close my eyes, I can almost hear her… Grace, my grandma, teasing me gently, handing out instructions like I was again ten years old, but looking at me like I was capable of anything.
“If I’d known she was sick, I wouldn’t have left.”
Valerie doesn’t say anything at first. I feel her arms around me. And somehow, it just makes it worse. There’s a deep, sharp ache in my chest that hasn’t gone away since Grace died. A dull weight I carry around, pretending it’s not there. I hate that I didn’t see it. I hate that I wasn’t here.
“That’s why she didn’t tell you,” Valerie says softly. “She didn’t want you to stop.”
“I would’ve put my whole life on hold for her.”
“Lena, life isn’t something you put on hold. Life’s meant to be lived, at full volume.”
I let out a small breath. She’s right. “Exactly. So let’s spend some money. Bring the lists, we’ve got orders to place.”
“Before that, there’s one more thing. Grace’s stuff, the things you wanted to keep, they’re packed and loaded in a moving truck. Where should we send them?”
I want to say ' to my place'. I need her things around me. Some of her paintings, the desk she used to write at, her favorite tea set, and a few of her books. She had an eye for beautiful things, pieces with history, with meaning. Her home was never cluttered, but everything in it told a story.
Those are the pieces I’ll take to the hotel. The rest, I’ll leave here for the women moving in. Grace would’ve wanted that.
“I’ll call Dominic. He’ll arrange a storage space at the hotel.”
“You’re not keeping anything with you? Where you’re staying, I mean. You’re putting it all into storage?”
“That place feels so impersonal. It’s already beautifully decorated, only not by someone who knew what I’d like.”
I pause. “One day, I’ll have a real home. A place where I can rebuild her memory.”
“We’ll find another location, eventually. Something bigger, something that fits better. The shelter won’t stay here forever.”
She rests her hand gently on mine. “When the time comes, we’ll return the house to you. I promise. We’re so grateful to have it now.”
“Stay as long as you need. That ‘ real home ’ moment feels so far away.”
“But you’ve got the money. You could buy a place now.”
“For now, I have a husband I’m supposed to live with. And he wants the hotel. At least it has good storage.”
I call his number. Phone’s off. Weird. Dominic never turns off his phone. He once told me it’s a thing with his mom. He always wants to be reachable.
I wait a few minutes, then call again. Still off. I try Alice and she picks up quickly. “Hey, Lena. What do you need? I’m at the hotel, if you want to come by.”
“Hi, Alice. I’m not there, I’m at my grandmother’s house, picking up a few personal things. I’m getting it ready to rent.”
I pause, trying to find the right words. “I tried calling Dominic to ask about storing some of Grace’s stuff, but he’s not answering. Do you know where he is? It’s well past noon. I doubt he’s still sleeping.”
She doesn’t answer right away. “Alice? Did you hear me?”
“Yeah, of course. Sorry, I was texting Leo to handle the truck. Or storage, or whatever you need.”
“But where’s Dominic?”
“Oh, um... he’s just having a busy day. But we’re all here if you need anything.”
Valerie leans in and whispers, “Can your truck go now? Another one’s coming soon from the old shelter.”
Damn. I’m out of time.
“Okay, Alice. Thanks. I’ll give the driver your number. He should be there soon.”
I hang up and stand still for a few seconds.
Alice dodged the question. She didn’t sound worried, but she didn’t sound honest either.
More like she was hiding something. And doing a pretty bad job of it.
I give the driver her number and head back inside to start placing the orders.
Valerie’s already on it, efficient, focused, lists lined up in front of her: supplies, bright clothes for the kids, medicine, diapers.
And somehow, she makes it look like the most natural thing in the world.
And Dominic’s card handles everything. No questions asked.
“Shopping is more exhausting than moving!” Valerie sighs, leaning back in her chair.
We’ve spent the last couple of hours ordering everything online. Meanwhile, the last load of furniture from the old shelter arrived.
“You should probably head back to the hotel. To your… husband.”
She pauses just long enough to let the word settle in the air. “Do you think he’ll freak out when he sees how much we spent?”
“Honestly? I have no idea how he’ll react. It’s the first time in my life I’ve ever spent this kind of money.”
It takes me a second to continue. “But something tells me he either won’t care or won’t even notice. I wish I could tell him.”
Valerie gives me a gentler look, but her voice holds firm. “Lena, the shelter is safe as long as not too many people know where it is or what we’re doing here. Especially people who aren’t directly involved. It’s better for everyone if we keep it that way.”
“I understand. Safety and discretion come first. A lot of abusive partners find ways to track these women down.”
I glance toward the front windows. “I was thinking, we should install a security system and some outdoor cameras. My friend can take care of it.”
“Lena, you’re an angel. You and Dominic both. Without this money, I’d be out chasing sponsors or trying to squeeze funds from the city. That kind of exposure would’ve been a disaster.”
Valerie hugs me, then grins and playfully points to the door. “Go. Go back to your husband, your life. You’ve done more than enough for us today. Text me if anything goes wrong, we can return things.”
“No need. My on-paper husband is doing just fine without this money. And sure, there are things about him that make me roll my eyes daily… but generosity? That’s not an act. That part’s very real.”
Unfortunately, that’s not the only thing about him that feels real.
Like that ass. And those arms. And that mouth.
All too real. And distracting. And definitely not the kind of thing I can admit to Valerie.
She’d probably faint if she knew how attracted I am to the man I spend most of my time pretending to be annoyed with.
After one last look through the online order list, I close my laptop in what’s now Valerie’s new office—formerly Grandma’s study—and head to the hotel.